


a steady beep

by spikeymarshmallows



Series: two boys emerging from shadowed hallways [6]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: All the angst that would come with an overdose, Angst, Crying, Drug Addiction, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, M/M, Mostly hurt though, Near Death Experiences, Sibling Incest, Vomiting, drug overdose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24366373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikeymarshmallows/pseuds/spikeymarshmallows
Summary: There's a quiet bustle of people nearby. He manages to drag his eyes open and then blinks rapidly, reality hitting himhard.*Oh boy, has Klaus fucked up this time.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves
Series: two boys emerging from shadowed hallways [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1695337
Comments: 22
Kudos: 183





	a steady beep

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags! This might be my "happy, self-indulgent universe" but um, this is... this is not a happy part of the series : ' )

There's a steady beeping when Klaus comes to. He feels like shit. There's a quiet bustle of people nearby. He manages to drag his eyes open and then blinks rapidly, reality hitting him _hard_.

He pushes himself up onto his hands before falling back against the bed weakly. Everything hurts.

The world spins and before Klaus can realise what's happening, he's sick, shivering and shaking. Breathing is agony, and oh god, vomiting is making the pain so much worse.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Diego's rough voice says. Diego's hands are burning hot on the back of his neck, and he's holding a metal basin up for Klaus to keep retching furiously into.

Klaus is aware of others entering the room, and even though the vomiting is slowing, he doesn't have the strength to sit up, to stop himself sagging in Diego's hold. He's trying desperately to steady his harsh breathing, every gasp sending shooting pain through him.

"He just wake up?" An unfamiliar voice asks.

"Yeah, started vomiting soon as he moved."

"How are you doing, Mister Hargreeves?"

Klaus wants to bite out a 'fuckin' peachy' but he can't get his mouth to cooperate. The sound that escapes him is best described as a groan and it brings with it a fresh wave of nausea. He retches into the basin, hacking and spitting up bile.

"Okay, Mister Hargreeves, this should help a bit," the voice says soothingly.

Klaus tries to make a questioning sound, and whimpers as he convulses and shivers. He doesn't know how long he's like this until the nausea finally abates. He pants, eyes closed, still leaning against Diego. There is a hand resting at the back of his neck, rubbing what Klaus supposes is meant to be a soothing pattern, but mostly feels like a cigarette lighter being pressed against his skin.

He doesn't pull away though. Now that he isn't being driven by the nausea, the rest of reality is slowly filtering back in. He hurts. God, he fucking hurts.

His head is splitting, and he _can't fucking breathe_ , and he is faintly aware that he is sweating furiously. His bones, on the other hand, feel like they're made of ice. His sinuses burn, and he can't smell anything other than vomit. His hand aches and he registers the IV in it.

The front of the hospital gown he's wearing is soggy from where he's thrown up, before Diego had the chance to get him something to vomit in.

Finally, he's able to flop back against the pillows, gasping sharply at the pain that punches through his chest.

"Jesus Christ," Klaus breathes, closing his eyes as he tries to steady the pain. His throat hurts, but he isn't sure if it's due to the vomiting, or the oxygen. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck."

"Not a bad analogy," the nurse says. "How's the pain?"

Klaus makes a groaning sound rather than trying to speak. Eventually, he manages, "I've been better."

"This should help then."

He falls asleep, or maybe passes out—probably the latter—shortly after, Diego's hand still searingly hot against his neck and the taste of vomit strong in his mouth.

Diego tries to talk to him. Diego has never been very good at controlling his emotions though. Klaus still feels like shit, like death warmed up, and like he's living in a swamp, and being crushed. Klaus is the horse in the Neverending Story.

Klaus might need some more of the pain meds, but they're being careful with him.

Diego's upset. Klaus gets that. He does.

He keeps trying to talk, but Klaus doesn't have answers. Klaus doesn't know the answers. He doesn't really remember anything, other than wanting it all to stop. He'd just wanted it all to stop.

And it had.

For a brief moment in time, it _had_ stopped.

The barbs they're exchanging have become increasingly loud. Klaus feels sick and dizzy with anger and adrenaline and misery and guilt. The emotions are choking him.

"Klaus, what the fuck? How could you do this?" Diego's voice is getting louder and his hands are getting tighter on his shoulders. His expression is furious, but underneath, Klaus can tell there's so much more. He's never seen Diego so upset. Ever.

"Ow, stop, let go," Klaus protests, shoving at his hands. It sends pain lancing through him as it disrupts the port in his hand.

"You could have died, Klaus!"

"So?" Klaus snaps back without thinking.

Diego releases Klaus' shoulders and rocks back on his heels, looking as if Klaus has just slapped him. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He closes it, nods sharply, and without saying another word heads towards the door.

"Diego, no, wait," Klaus says, suddenly terrified that Diego is going to leave and not come back. Diego doesn't look at him, but he hesitates at the door, hand resting on the frame. For a brief moment, Klaus thinks he's going to stay. But Diego keeps walking, and then disappears from sight.

Klaus doesn't even have the energy to cry.

The next time Klaus wakes up, Diego is back in the chair beside his bed. He's picking at the patches on his jeans, not looking at Klaus. His nails are jagged and red. Diego hasn't bitten his nails since, god… Since before puberty, maybe.

"You came back," Klaus breathes giddily. He tries to swallow around his dry throat.

Diego looks up at him, face impassive. "I just needed some air. Time to think." He leans forward and rests his forearms on the bed, but doesn't look at Klaus. "Was it on purpose?" His voice is soft. He doesn't stutter.

"I… don't know…" Klaus admits. "I don't think so. I don't remember. But… I don't think so."

Diego nods, exhalation thin. He doesn't say anything else.

"Diego?"

Diego looks up at him, expression blank.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Diego just nods again and intently studies the blankets covering Klaus' legs.

Klaus has never felt so lost for words. He picks at the waffle print of the blanket, goosebumps breaking out over his body. His fingers are so cold that they're stiff. He's not sure he could bend them even if he wanted to. His mouth tastes like something died in it.

"Are you warm enough?" Diego asks finally.

Klaus hesitates before he shakes his head. "Fucking freezing."

Diego nods and leans forward. He reaches for something beside Klaus; there's a little ding.

An unfamiliar man in magenta scrubs comes in.

"Everything okay?"

"Can we get some extra blankets please?" Diego's voice is still rough.

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

When the nurse returns with several heated blankets, he removes the old ones and tucks the new ones around Klaus. Even with the heat, the warmth making him sweat, Klaus is still so fucking cold.

"How are you feeling now?" the nurse asks, fiddling with the machines attached to Klaus' body.

"Um… Cold. Hurts. Thirsty."

"Well, you've been through the wringer. Personally, not my idea of a good Thursday night, but you know…" He sounds so chirpy, and Klaus doesn't know if he likes him or hates him.

He removes the empty clear bag hanging over Klaus' head and puts a fresh one in, takes his blood pressure and notes it down on the chart.

"How would you rate your pain?" he asks.

Klaus hesitates again, eyes darting up to look at Diego. Diego isn't looking at him though. "'M okay, except the breathing."

The nurse nods. "I'll give you something for the pain. Breathing's important!"

Klaus smiles weakly. The nurse fiddles around some more before finally leaving them alone again. The pain meds kick in soon, and Klaus can breathe a little easier.

Diego still won't look at him.

Klaus doesn't know what to say.

Klaus wants to touch him. He wants Diego to touch him. He doesn't know if he's allowed to want those things anymore.

He bites the inside of his lower lip hard to try and distract from the stinging in his eyes. He wonders if he'll draw blood. He stops; Diego will be upset if he does.

"Diego?" Klaus croaks.

Diego looks up at him; his blank expression has morphed into one of pure misery. Diego has never been good at hiding his feelings, even though he is the sibling who probably tries the hardest to do so.

Klaus opens and closes his mouth several times, trying to find the words. 'I love you'? 'I'm sorry'? 'Please don't leave me'? 'Please hold me'?

Nothing comes out.

Diego watches him, presses his lips tightly together. He blinks rapidly, eyes shining.

Klaus' stiff fingers twitch, and Klaus watches as Diego's eyes are drawn to them. Diego hesitates and then inches his fingers up towards Klaus'. He hovers over them before gently threading his fingers between Klaus', his other hand coming to settle on top of his fingers. He doesn't go up higher so as not to disrupt the IV.

Diego's hands are warm around his fingers, but the touch feels far away. Diego's hands are trembling. He presses a little kiss to Klaus' fingertips.

A tear slips down Klaus' face.

And then Diego exhales shakily. He leans forward, resting his forehead on his forearm. Klaus can feel the warmth of his arm against his thigh, even through the warm blankets.

Maybe it's just wishful thinking, because Klaus can't really feel anything right now.

Diego closes his eyes, but he doesn't let go of Klaus' hand.

For now, that has to be enough.

Diego doesn't want to go home, no matter how much the nurses encourage him. When Klaus says nothing will happen to him here, Diego's eyes start to glisten before he looks away.

Klaus hasn't pushed the issue since.

The nurses do, finally, manage to convince him to take a shower.

Klaus closes his eyes when Diego disappears into the bathroom adjoining his room. He has his own room, which is kinda nice. He wonders how Diego pulled that off.

God. Klaus doesn't want to think about how the fuck they're going to pay for this. They can barely afford to eat every day, and that's _with_ Klaus selling his ass to whomever has a couple of notes.

The nurse, Karla, grabs the blankets from Diego's chair and takes them to the doorway, placing them there. She comes back and does the checks on him that the nurses do constantly.

"How's the pain?" she asks kindly.

"I still feel like I've been kicked in the chest," Klaus says. He'd had a shower (or rather, he'd been showered by the nurses) earlier and his chest is a rainbow of bruises. "Bit of a headache too. 'Side from that, I'm okay."

"Well, that's not a surprise about the chest," she says, nodding.

She fiddles with some things and writes her notes in his file before she sits down in Diego's chair.

Apparently Klaus needs someone watching him constantly; hospital rules.

Klaus makes a questioning sound, throat too sore to bother with words. At least they are letting him have sips of water now that he is less likely to vomit everywhere. "I didn't know narcan did that."

"It doesn't. CPR does."

"Oh." Does Klaus know that? He probably knows that.

"Your husband did a good job, good as any of us professionals could have."

"Husb—" Klaus cuts himself off. _Husband?_ Is that how he's gotten past the matching surnames? "Uh. Yeah. He's pretty good with this kind of thing. His, uh, dad taught him some interesting skills."

"Well, it's lucky he did. You wouldn't have survived otherwise." She gives him a sad smile. "He wouldn't leave your side; we almost had to sedate _him_."

Klaus studies his hands, staring for the fiftieth time that day at the dried blood under the bandage on his hand.

"Try not to fret, okay? You're safe now. And you'll both work through this."

Klaus nods.

"How long have you been together? You seem awfully young to be married."

Klaus chuckles weakly. "Oh, you know… I've known him my whole life. But. Uh. The marriage bit is… kinda new."

Diego doesn't take long in the shower and Klaus is tired again by the time he comes out. Diego looks exhausted; his face is ashen and there are dark circles under his eyes. He needs to go home and sleep in something that isn't a hospital chair.

But Klaus is selfish, and so he doesn't push Diego too hard. He wants Diego here.

Diego smiles weakly at him and Klaus tries to smile back.

"Allison has agreed to pay for your rehab," Diego says idly. He still hasn't left and he's been wearing the same clothes for the last two days. "She said. When I… When I called her day before yesterday."

The hospital room has been mostly silent. Klaus doesn't know what to say anymore, and he spends a lot of his time sleeping.

This wakes him the fuck up.

Klaus sits up, ignoring the pain in his ribs. "Wait, hold the fuck up. I'm not going to rehab. This was one little fuck up. I was mostly doing okay before. I'll be fine!"

"Klaus, this isn't up for discussion."

"Like hell it's not." Klaus doesn't need rehab. He doesn't!

If he goes to rehab, Diego will be all alone.

If he goes to rehab, the ghosts will return.

If he goes to rehab… Klaus doesn't know how to function without drugs. He hasn't had to in… In…

Klaus doesn't know how to handle things without the drugs. He hasn't had to in years.

"No, no, no," Klaus tries, tone pleading this time. "I'll be good. I don't need rehab, Diego. I'll stick to weed and coke and ecstasy. No injectables. I've learned my lesson, promise!" He holds up a hand. "Scout's honour!"

"Why do you think that's some kind of compromise?" Diego asks incredulously.

"Diego, please, no. You… You can't make me face the ghosts. Don't you get it? They won't leave me alone."

"Klaus," Diego says, tone suddenly very sharp. "You almost died. You _were_ dead. Twice! I got to feel your fucking ribs breaking under my hands, and I'm. I'm." He stops, jaw clenching. There is a fire in his eyes that Klaus has never seen aimed at him.

"Diego, I—" Klaus starts, suddenly not sure of what to say.

"Please," Diego says hoarsely. "Please don't put me through that again... Please don't m-m-make me—" His voice cuts off as he chokes and he presses his lips together again. The anger has gone as suddenly as it had appeared. He looks away. Klaus watches his chest hitch as he visibly struggles to steady his breathing.

Klaus' eyes are burning and when he blinks next, several tears roll down his cheeks. He nods mutely and reaches out to take Diego's hand. Diego accepts the touch, squeezing Klaus' fingertips gently, even though he still won't look at him. Diego's hands are shaking again.

"I'll do it," Klaus whispers.

Diego looks up at him finally, and god, he looks like a kicked puppy. It's still strange to see Diego so vulnerable; Klaus had never seen it until a few days ago. He hates that he knows what Diego looks like when he's devastated. He hates that he can make Diego look like that.

"I'll do it," Klaus repeats, like a promise.

Diego nods, and a couple of tears fall down his face. He doesn't wipe them away.

"Thank you," Diego says quietly as the tension leaves his body. He sags like Klaus has cut the strings that were holding him up. He rests his head against Klaus' thigh, a comforting weight through the blankets. He trembles violently, but he doesn't make any sound. Klaus just strokes the back of his head clumsily and tries not to feel sick with panic.

It's been a rotten week all around. Rehab sucks, and god, he misses the fuck out of Diego. He supposes this was what he got though. He's really fucked up this time.

Still. It's hard to sleep here. He's used to his back being pressed to a wall and his other side being boxed in by Diego. His twin bed here isn't beside any walls, and sometimes he fears he'll fall out of the bed if he's not careful. The sheets feel all wrong, and yes, they're clean, but they're starchy, not soft like the old flannel sheets he and Diego have. They don't smell like the two of them.

He's here just over a week before they let him see Diego again. Something something about "committing to the program". He hasn't even been allowed to _call_ him. Klaus hates every second of it. Didn't they understand that it was better for his sobriety to have Diego around?

Still, Klaus tries. He tries to "commit", even if it is only so they'll allow him to see Diego sooner rather than later.

And finally, it comes.

And god, as soon as Diego is there, Klaus all but flies across the room, throwing his arms around Diego's neck. He doesn't mean to cry, but the tears come anyway. Diego lifts him off his feet for a moment, holding him so tightly that his bones feel like they were cracking. Klaus gasps in pain; his ribs still aren't healed, but god, he'll suffer as long as Diego keeps holding him like this.

When they finally draw away, Diego kisses his forehead and takes his hand. He looks exhausted, and Klaus is pretty sure Diego has teared up and—oh. Yes. Diego swipes at his own cheeks with his thumb, frustrated.

They've only just let go, but Klaus moves back into the hug instantly, even though his chest feels like it's going to burst open and he's going to sob.

"I'm sorry," Klaus whispers hoarsely into Diego's neck, still trying (and failing) to stem the tears.

"It's okay," Diego murmurs. His arms are so tight and safe around him.

Against Klaus' best wishes, the tears start to come faster. Diego withdraws and before Klaus can protest, Diego is grabbing his hand and pulling him over to one of the small sofas in the visitors room. Once there, he tucks Klaus into his arms again, pulling his legs over his lap so that he's almost cradling him. Klaus sobs as he clutches at Diego's sweater.

Diego's breath is hitching too, and his breathing sounds wet. A few of his tears run down his neck. Klaus hates himself. He never wants to hurt Diego, never wants him to be like this again.

Klaus is angry at himself for crying because it means he can't smell Diego.

But finally, they're both breathing normally again. They're holding each other. They're okay.

Klaus shows Diego around the rehab centre. As miserable as Klaus is, it's a nice place. It's probably costing Allison a buttload of cash. There's a lake, but there's a fence between them and the lake. Suicide risks, etc. There's a tennis court but Klaus doesn't care to play; tennis isn't exactly Klaus' preferred form of exercise.

He's not even allowed to get his preferred form of exercise in rehab, as they're not allowed to close the bedroom doors when guests are here. A part of Klaus is tempted to try giving Diego a blowjob around the corner of his room, but mostly, he just wants to cuddle Diego, and be held like he's something precious. His sex drive is a little wonky right now.

Diego relaxes incrementally through the visit. He doesn't stop touching Klaus, and his smiles go from tight and strained to a little more real. He even laughs at some of the jokes Klaus makes.

A knot that Klaus hasn't realised was in his stomach loosens.

"I'm proud of you," Diego tells him, mouth pressed above his ear as he gives him a goodbye hug that is both very long and not long enough. "You're doing well."

Klaus nods, tucking his face closer into Diego's neck. He doesn't want to let go. He won't be able to see Diego for another three days after this, and the separation _hurts_.

"I'll be back to pissing off the neighbours with my singing before you know it," Klaus says, smiling wryly when he finally pulls away.

"God, I hope so," Diego exhales.

Klaus still isn't used to seeing him so open, so vulnerable. Klaus has always known Diego wears his heart on his sleeve, but this was new.

For once, Klaus feels like _he_ has to be the strong one. He has to put on a brave face, and pretend like this is what he wants. He has to pretend that he can do this. He has to pretend to be okay with it.

He never wants to see Diego look like he had in the hospital again.

Klaus is going to pretend until it's an absolute fucking reality.

Diego cups his face and kisses him long and slow. When he draws away, he kisses Klaus' nose, his forehead. His smile, although wavering, finally seems genuine.

Klaus has never had to be strong for anyone, least of all himself.

But maybe this time, he can be strong for Diego.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a follow-up for this coming shortly : ) Like, hopefully this week! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
